


Corners

by TheWetBatling



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Caught, Diapers, Orgasm, Other, Past Abuse, Sex Talk, Urination, Watersports, carpet pee, chamber pot, corner peeing, furniture peeing, naughty pee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 11:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14448129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWetBatling/pseuds/TheWetBatling
Summary: Tim's past is a sordid mess, an affair best not spoken about inhisopinion. Things have created the mess he lives in and the way he deals. How long until he's caught? How long until Bruce finds out and Tim's on the street instead of inside this incredible home? Tim fears the way it will happen to the very core of his being.





	Corners

**Author's Note:**

> You getting used to this warning yet?   
> Piss. This is about pissing. Lots of piss. Pee everywhere!   
> There's also discussion of past abuse, may be triggery.

Tim's heart was in his throat as he knelt in the corner of his bedroom. It was freezing cold outside and even the hallways of his house were too cold for him. As it was, he was shivering almost violently. He tightened his blanket around himself and shuffled around until he was facing the wall. With one hand, he pulled down the front of his sleep pants and went up on his knees, pushing his hips toward the wall and leaning forward until his head thumped lightly against the corner. 

A few seconds passed before he got his body to cooperate with him and then he was pissing full-force into the corner. He peed so hard it didn't have time to soak into the plush carpet and began to puddle up, his urine splashing down as he kept going. 

Another shiver ripped through him and he told himself he was only doing this because it was _cold_ , because he couldn't make it to the bathroom down the hall without doing this in his pants if he tried. 

The puddle grew under him and he shuffled back so it didn't get on his pants and pushed harder, getting it all out of him faster, casting a frantic look over his shoulder toward the door. He'd only been here a week. What would Bruce do if he found out? Would he kick him out? Send him away to some foster home? Would he tell him no matter the secrets he knew about Batman and Robin that a boy who peed in the corner wasn't fit for the job?

His cock twitched as he finished, a few drops falling onto the puddle and he pushed up from the floor, tugged his pants back into place, and shoved the chair he'd moved over the stain, bolting back to bed. 

He'd pretend he didn't know what happened. Maybe they'd think he did it sleep walking if they found out. Maybe... they wouldn't find out at all.

Curling back up in bed, he shuffled under the other covers and lay there trembling for a good hour before he finally drifted back to sleep.

\----

He'd been here months and so far no one had figured out that Tim just _didn't_ pee in the toilet. There was a reason for it, one deep at the heart of it all, but he was loathe to actively examine it. He knew when he'd started, that it had been years ago, back at home, when his father had gotten so angry that little Tim hadn't _quite_ made it to the toilet and had pissed his pants. 

He hadn't minded the feeling of it, hadn't really seen the issue other than having to do laundry and how he'd had to mop up the floor of the puddle he'd made. But it hadn't stunk, hadn't left a stain, and it shouldn't have been something to beat him until he was sobbing and curled in the corner over. 

Since then he'd done everything he could to never have an accident again. Rather, Tim had _on purposes_. He'd wait and when no one was looking, he'd find somewhere to pee. Bottles, empty cups from restaurants that he'd later pour out as if he didn't want the rest of the drink, his towels from his shower, and on super desperate occasions, the corner of his room, between his dresser and the floor lamp where no one could stumble over his secret. He'd peed that corner so many times it was a comfort to do it. He cleaned it every week with carpet cleaner and Lysol, making sure it never started stinking, and he kept himself hydrated enough his urine didn't smell like urine. And little Tim never got beaten by his father again. 

No one ever found out how he'd solved his problem and no one ever would.

Tim's fingers trembled next to his thigh, his bladder desperate for relief. He'd waited too long this time, too long during his first patrol and too long after and he was going to urinate regardless of where if he wasn't careful.

"I need to shower."

Tim turned on his heel and all but bolted to the showers. Yanking off his outfit, he managed to stumble into the showers just as he started to dribble. Kneeling in the corner, he peed full-force against the tile wall, listening to it splatter down onto the floor and watching it run down toward the floor drain, relief spiraling though him as he peed. 

He stood and turned on the shower, shivering as he began to wash. No one had seen. No one knew.

His secret was still safe.

\----

Dick had been in his room for _hours_ and Tim had to pee something awful. He was getting half hard with the need and when he pushed his hand against his abdomen he could feel how distended it was with his full bladder.

He cast a glance toward his corner. He'd been wetting there for almost a year now and still no one had said a thing. True, he hadn't peed anywhere else in the house yet, knew it had only been a period of time before he was relegated to it, and he'd been looking for places that would work _just in case_.

Pushing himself up, he picked up his glass and quietly informed Dick he was going to go get some more juice. Dick just beamed at him and asked for a cup of coffee on Tim's way back.

He walked calmly out of the room and then darted down the hall and down the stairs. Turning into the sitting room, he made sure no one was in there and then pushed the door most of the way shut and hurried to the corner where there was a thin sliver of space between Bruce's desk and the wall. It was carpeted, a deep burgundy color so it wouldn't show his pee, and an area that no vacuum fit in so presumably no one would find his secret here.

He shoved his glass on the desk and fumbled his pants open, barely getting his dick out and aimed before he started to urinate. The hiss of him urinating filled the room and he shuddered hard, leaning on the desk with one hand, panting softly as he pushed it out as fast as he could.

It felt like it took forever to finish and when he looked down, the entire carpet between the desk and the wall was sodden with his piss. He'd waited too long, had too much, and he was in danger of getting caught if anyone came in here. 

He let out a thin whine as he pushed his cock back into his pants and fastened them up. He grabbed his glass and left the room behind as fast as he could. 

This was it, this was the end of the road for him. He'd get caught and Bruce would toss him out on his rear.

\-----

It'd been weeks and still no one had brought his incident up to him. It seemed once again, he was in the clear. 

Today was difficult, his bladder misbehaving more often than usual. He noticed there were always a few days out of each month where he'd need to pee more urgently and frequently than usual. He'd already peed in his corner twice and he was afraid of not letting it dry between but he was busting for another go, to the point where he was starting to get a piss erection, his body on the verge of an accident if he didn’t give in and pee soon.

His mind went over the other options in the manor and he made a quick decision to use Dick's old room. He stayed there sometimes now, but only every few months. Nervously wetting his lips, he shoved himself up and opened his door. His hand went down to squeeze his dick and he hissed in a breath as he almost peed at the action. 

Panic seized him and he bolted from the room, slipping into Dick's room and closing the door quietly behind him. He fumbled his pants open as he frantically looked around, finally deciding on the closet. He stepped into it and pushed his hips back toward the far corner as he pulled his dick out. Urine began to spray the second he got his penis out and he choked himself on the relieved moan that wanted out at not having wet himself. 

Piss rained down on the floor for what felt like forever, soaking into the plush carpet in the closet. He shuddered, gasping in surprise when his penis started hardening the instant he was done peeing. 

Excitement gripped him and he began to move his hand over his stiffened flesh, rapidly stroking as his hips jerked. It didn't take him but a few more strokes before he was cumming, the orgasm unexpected and nearly sending him to his knees with the intensity of it. 

Shuddering, he flicked off the cum off his fingers and tucked himself away, staring down at the dark pissy puddle on the floor and the cum that was strung across it. Damning... but it'd dry before anyone came in here.

No one was going to question some cum in a boy's room.

Or at least he could keep telling himself that.

\----

It started to become a _thing_. Sometimes he'd have to find somewhere that wasn't his corner to pee in within the manor and when he did, he'd find himself with his dick hard in his hand afterward and then his cum would join the puddle on the floor within seconds. It was always that fast, like his body was too shocked to draw it out, as if it needed to jizz as bad as he needed to piss. Once... he even ejaculated _while_ he was peeing and it was the most intense thing he'd ever felt.

His thoughts had been turning to _other_ places to pee. Things that weren't just corners, that weren't so far out of the way he might get caught. _Risky_.

Tim wanted to risky pee so bad he stroked off at night thinking about it and then would go pee in his corner whether he needed to or not just so he could ejaculate again. He ached for it.

He found himself looking at things and debating if he could get away with it, calculating each place he saw he could put his dick in and pee, and ranking them in his mind.

And so, he began his list late one evening when Bruce was busy in the cave and Alfred had gone out to obtain their food for the evening. Pizza, Tim's favorite.

He crept into the study and knelt in front of the couch, tugging his zipper down as he got on his knees. His penis was half hard by the time he got it out of his jeans and he was peeing the instant it was out, urinating right against the underside of the couch so it rained down on the carpet under it. His hips rocked against the couch as he urinated, his excitement gripping him as he peed. 

Gasping, he humped harder, thrust as he peed harder, and then he was ejaculating, strangling on his cries of pleasure as he came harder than he ever had before. He could still feel his ejaculate sliding down his dick as he started peeing again, intent to empty his bladder right there, right under the couch like a filthy boy. 

He finished and shifted back, glancing around and then pushing his dick between the cushions and strained until a little drizzle of pee came out. His heart thudded in his chest and his hands shook at how naughty he was being. 

Yes... this was definitely going to be a thing. There was no way it couldn't be.

\----

He'd been debating this one for weeks, knew he probably couldn't get away with it, but he wanted to so badly after having peed that tiny bit in between the couch cushions. It was early morning, not time for anyone to be up, but his bladder had woken him, informed him of its need, and he had been gripped with what he privately had begun to label insanity.

He knelt in his light blue recliner, facing the back of the chair, shifted around again until he was certain he had a good channel for the pee to drain down toward the back of the chair and off into the floor if he couldn't stop going once he started. He wanted to piss on the fabric, but he didn't want to drench the chair. 

He slid his sleep pants down and shifted his hips forward and concentrated until the first dribble of piss came out. He watched it darken the fabric and grew excited. He peed a little more, the fabric soaking it up and he moved enough to pee on a different spot, another spurt staining the fabric.

Lifting his dick, he peed on the back of the chair for a few seconds and then crowded himself against the damp spot, humping frantically as his cock hardened. With a little cry, he came, cum pulsing out between him and the piss damp fabric and then the torrent of pee came out right behind it, flooding the chair and his pants before he could stop it. 

Anxiety crawled up in his lungs and he sat there shaking as he peed full-force into the chair. He'd made a mistake. A horrible mistake. He'd miscalculated how much control he had and his orgasm had ripped the fragile reigns of it away from him.

Shame filled him as he bowed his head and peed until he was empty, sliding off the chair and standing there trembling, looking at the mess he'd made. He had to stop, had to go back his corner and nowhere else. 

His hands shook as he gathered up his laundry and began to frantically blot at the piss sodden chair, tears running down his cheeks. He'd fucked up and now he was far too old to get away with this kind of thing. Bruce wouldn’t just kick him out, he'd string him up for this, make sure any family he got knew he was a teenager who liked to piss on things. 

He whimpered as he shoved all his laundry in the chair and stripped out of his wet pants, pushing them into the center of it all and hoping against hope Alfred didn't decide to do the wash today or tomorrow or really ever again because he was sure that was going to stain and he had no idea where the cleaning supplies were to fix it.

He didn't sleep the rest of the night and when he left for school the next day, he was a zombie at best.

\----

Tim trudged into his room from school, dropped his book bag on the floor and cast a glance at the chair before his blood froze in his veins. He gagged a little at the clearly freshly cleaned chair, still entirely damp but not piss stained. His hand clamped over his mouth and he tried to hold back the immediate reaction of panic.

He trembled head to toe and gagged again, happy for once he'd not eaten a damn thing at school. 

Warm hands landed on his shoulders and Tim let out a whimper and crumpled to the floor, cowering away from fists he was sure would come. He curled into a ball and waited, tensed and shaking.

He knew how to fight, knew how to _win_ , and yet... here he was, reacting like this was his dad all over again.

Shame filled him and he couldn't stop the sob that wracked him. This was horrible, degrading, and he deserved all of it.

"You're not in trouble." Bruce's voice, quiet and pitched low enough it was only for him to hear. "We just need to talk... can you talk with me about this?"

It took great effort, but Tim managed to uncurl himself from the floor, managed to haul himself to his feet, and allowed Bruce to lead him to his bed where he immediately crawled up and curled up near the top, clutching his legs to his chest and shoving his face against his knees. 

Bruce said he wasn't in trouble but there was no way he wasn't. He'd peed on this man's things for _years_ and he'd gone and gotten himself caught. 

"I mean it, Tim, you're not in trouble here. The way you just reacted tells me you've been in trouble before... is that true?"

Tim managed a little shrug and then closed his eyes, fighting back a tremble and barely managing, "My dad. I had an accident and he," he shook his head a little.

"And he what, Tim?"

"Beat me..." the words were quiet, barely there. 

"How long before you came here?"

Tim pursed his lips and then sighed, knowing he had to give up a dead man's secrets now and his own along with it. It wouldn't excuse what he'd done, but it would explain some of it. "About six years before. It wasn't my fault entirely. I was sick and... things happened. He beat me until I blocked it out of my mind. I know I was out of school for a few weeks so I know it was bad, but not sure how bad." He gestured at his head. "You know how the mind eats these things... makes them something else. I was just a little kid." 

"Did it happen any other time?"

"I never wet my pants again."

Bruce was silent for a minute and then held his hand out in front of Tim, fingers open, waiting. "No one here is angry with you."

Tim stared at his hand, longed to reach for it, but instead curled himself away from it, turned his head away and stared out the window. "I think you should be."

"Why?"

"That's not the first thing I've done." Tim's arms tightened on his legs and he held down a shiver.

"I know. I've known for a while now." Bruce shifted and Tim chanced a glance to see that he'd pulled one leg up on the bed and held his hands clasped around his knee now. "I'll tell you as many times as it takes. You're not in trouble for this or for any of the other times."

"Why not?"

"At first I was pretty sure it was accidental. Like maybe you knew you wouldn’t make it all the way down the hall so you did it in the corner so you wouldn't wet yourself. It's not all that uncommon for a kid. I had extra absorbent padding put in under that corner and sealed the floor under it while you were at the tower one week. We dealt with that and it's fine." Bruce shifted again, his head cocking a bit to the side. "I started suspecting it was more than that when you refused to use the bathroom in the cave to urinate either. When you used the shower as a pretense one night, I thought I understood a bit better what was going on. My assumption was somewhere along the way you'd had something bad happen to you while using the restroom to piss in and it left a stigma behind. I wanted to ask but you were so scared every time you did it and I wasn't ready to face a complete breakdown in the face of it. I don't claim to be the best man to do this nor do I hold all the answers, but I'm trying."

Bruce gave him a hopeful look and Tim felt himself flush, pushed his nose against his knees and nodded a little. 

"You used my office one day out of desperation. I saw you go in and watched you leave like you were terrified. Found the corner you'd used and added up the fact that Dick was in your room and you couldn't go. You almost had an accident didn't you?"

Tim nodded and managed a little, "Yeah."

"It changed at some point though. I'm not sure when, but it did. It stopped being just about those issues and started being about gratification. Am I right?"

Tim's cheeks burned and he let out a little whine, shivering. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Bruce shook his head. "No, Tim, it's okay. That's also pretty common, that something you're ashamed of becomes something to get off on. Your secret becoming another secret. I suspected it a while ago but hadn't been able to prove anything until this morning with the chair. If I'm not mistaken that wasn't on purpose, was it?"

"I..." Tim swallowed and then groaned in defeat, "kinda... kinda not."

"Are you okay explaining?"

"I meant to do a little and," he gestured vaguely, swallowed, and then whispered, "cum, and then stop. I couldn't stop."

"Alright. I've been thinking on what to do when we had to talk about it for a long time and I think I've come up with something that will make you less ashamed, give you an outlet, and also allow you to get off on it if you still want to. Of course, there's the other option of working you through the fear of it and back into the bathroom, but I felt you might be resistant to that path."

Tim tensed, trembling a little at the idea of having to piss in the bathroom again, terror starting inside him, and he shook his head, swallowing against the feeling of nausea that swam inside him.

"First option it is."

Bruce carefully telegraphed his movements, getting up and going to Tim's closet. He opened it and pulled out a box, bringing it back to the bed and settling it down, sitting beside Tim again. He took the lid off and lifted out a white porcelain chamber pot, settling it on the bed. "I suggest putting this wherever in here you'd like to and using it for your standard needs. There's a reason they used to be the way of things and there's nothing wrong with going back to old ways. If it makes you feel any better about it, I've had to use one at times when I've been too hurt to make it."

Tim slowly unfolded himself, reaching for it and examining the delicate lotus design on the side, the way it was flared out so it didn't splash back out, and he decided he liked it. He curled his fingers over the rim and held on, staring steadily at the box, waiting on the rest.

"Okay, then for the rest of the time. First, I want you to know it's a thing, it's not just you. There's an entire world of people out there who get off on it. Forgive me if I overstep some bounds here, but I need you to understand you're not broken and you shouldn't be scared or ashamed. We just need to... focus it. Acceptable places and easy to clean ways to deal with it, that's all."

Bruce pulled out a DVD and pushed it toward Tim. On the cover a woman was peeing on her carpet and on the smaller thumbnails a few were doing it in the bathtub and one on some tile flooring. Hesitantly, Tim reached out and flipped it over. The back cover featured various men doing the same things in different locations, one peeing in a potted plant with a broad grin on his face, his cock half erect. 

Tim swallowed and flipped it back over, pushing it under his thigh so he didn't have to stare at it. 

"They have all kinds of stuff in that genre, that just seemed to be what fit the situation best. You know you have your credit card and if you wish to explore that more, I will ignore any charges on the card for such things without question. Use my birthdate to purchase it." He gave Tim a significant look. "It would not be the first porn purchased in my name that's considered specialty."

Tim ducked his head, hiding his blush away in his knees and nodded a little. 

"I printed out a forum thread that seemed to have a bunch of people who were trying to hide what they were doing but wanted other places to explore it posting in it. They had some pretty good ideas about what to do and where so it was easy cleanup or easily hidden. I took a few of their suggestions and got you some stuff." He patted the box. "It's all in here if you want to explore it. As for the rest of the house... let's avoid things we don't find until weeks later since that makes it harder to clean." He gave a significant glance toward Dick's room. "We're not going to get mad at clothing, towels, or bedsheets in the least. There's been a cover on your bed just in case for years now that's protecting the mattress. I, personally, ask that you clean up the larger parts of it yourself. Put the stuff in the laundry and we'll go from there. No one will mention it again and no one will think anything of it. We'll re-evaluate at a later point if we need to, if it's not helping you or if you're not getting what you need out of it, we can talk."

Tim was squirming by the time Bruce stopped talking, his bladder full and his cock starting to try to get hard off the idea of what might be in the box. He shivered a little and nodded, wondering if he should be horribly embarrassed. As it was, he was a little bit, but not how he thought he might should have been. In a way it was comforting that Bruce knew and wasn't kicking him out. He knew he'd shot his load all over that chair and he'd been fine with it apparently.

"Anything you want to say or ask me?"

Tim shifted enough to talk, his words quiet. "Why don't you hate me for this? I think most reasonable people would be angry I've been peeing in your house for years."

"Because I care about you and I understand." Bruce appeared to hesitate and then flicked his glance at the DVD. "I didn't have to buy that. It's not really my realm of the whole thing, but I understand it."

Tim's breath caught for a second and then he managed, "You're... into it?"

Bruce cleared his throat. "Are you sure you really want to know? Not something we can unlearn about each other."

After a second Tim nodded.

"I enjoy the act during sex but not so much alone."

Tim felt his erection grow and it took everything not to roll his hips. His breath hitched a little and he imagined it, imagined Bruce urinating on his partner and he felt a spike of lust that curled his toes. "That's hot," he whispered, feeling his cheeks heat right after he said it.

Bruce gave him a small smile. "Yeah... it is." He pushed up off the bed then and headed toward the door. "Dinner's in two hours and patrol's in three." He stepped out of the room and closed the door.

Once he'd gone, Tim took note the door was locked and he rolled up onto his knees to peer into the box, finding the little printout and some towels, a few absorbent pads, an adult diaper, and quite a few plastic vases and holders of various sorts. 

Tim's penis twitched and he felt the need to pee increase until he was squirming. Working his pants open with one hand, he yanked the diaper out and pushed his dick into the cotton folds of it. Almost immediately he began to urinate, a sigh of relief leaving him as he peed into the diaper. 

It grew heavy in his hands and he knew he had more than it could hold. Panting, he yanked the camber pot over and stuffed the diaper in it, leaning over it so his dick dangled into the pot and strained, peeing full force into it with a little pleased cry. It felt _dirty_ and yet it was allowed. 

Shivering, he pulled the pissy diaper up and folded it around his prick, starting to thrust in and out of it excitedly as he fished around in the box, thinking about peeing in all of these things. It only took a minute before he was pulsing his cum into the diaper and he moaned as he jerked his hips, peeing right behind it a bit more and then relaxing. 

Bruce approved of this. Bruce was _into_ this.

His fear gone, Tim settled back and stared at his peed-in diaper and the piss that sloshed in the chamber pot. This was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

He could pee, he could cum, and he'd never ever be in trouble for it ever again.


End file.
